


even the angels couldn't tear me away from you

by thursdayknight



Series: like canon but gayer 'verse [1]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Canon, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Asexual Steve Harrington, Billy Hargrove Comes Back, Billy Hargrove Has Powers, Established Relationship, Fighting Monsters, M/M, No Porn, Post-Season/Series 03
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-22
Updated: 2019-11-22
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:53:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21526294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thursdayknight/pseuds/thursdayknight
Summary: Billy sits there, legs crossed, smile fully weaponized, his beauty laced with poison and something in Steve's gut sinks.Billy's leaving. He's lacing up his big, black fuck-you boots and he's leaving.
Relationships: Steve Harrington/Billy Hargrove
Series: like canon but gayer 'verse [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1551490
Comments: 6
Kudos: 88





	even the angels couldn't tear me away from you

  
[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/185132853@N05/49107248422/in/dateposted-public/)

Billy sits there, legs crossed, smile fully weaponized, his beauty laced with poison and something in Steve's gut sinks. 

Billy's leaving. He's lacing up his big, black fuck-you boots and he's leaving. 

"You can't…" Steve says, his mouth suddenly too dry to spit the words out properly so they come out all mottled and sad. "You can't," he says again, like it means something, like it means everything, like it means what he wants it to, like it means _please, stay_. 

"You know I have to go," Billy says, tugging his laces tight and not so much as bothering to look up at Steve as he says it. Steve wonders if it's because he doesn't want to or because he can't. Can't stand it or doesn't want to, it has to be one of the two.

So Steve clambers forward, crawling over the sheets that smell like they haven’t been washed in weeks, probably haven’t, because Billy is lazy and dirty and gross and almost never washes his sheets, prefers to just lie in his own mess indefinitely. Except for now. Now with this thing, this monster he'd unintentionally brought back with him after clawing his way out of the darkness. 

This he's responsible about. This he's determined about, all that fire and rage rising to the surface and lingering there on his skin but going no farther, no, now the rage just sits there, simmering at the surface and Steve can see it in the way Billy loops and ties his laces, in the tight way he does the buttons up on his shirt - that boy that wore all his clothes half-off like he was ready to crawl out of them, out of his own skin with the slightest provocation long since gone; he's no longer the boy that was always half a second from exploding, but that anger, that rage is still in the man that sits before Steve, it's still there and it's screaming for a release. 

So Steve crawls onto Billy's lap, dragging a finger under Billy's chin and forcing eye contact. Billy's lashes flutter but his eyes don't close, he doesn't look away, just stares at Steve with a sort of lust, a sort of want that fights against the rage and the anger and almost wins. Almost, but doesn't. Maybe if the rage weren't powered by a self-hatred that sits so deep in Billy even the Upside Down couldn't claw it out, maybe then it could have won, maybe then Steve could have convinced Billy to run away with him, run away and leave this town and all its problems far behind, but. But. That isn't going to happen, not here, not now, maybe not ever, not with the way Billy's decided to take responsibility for this the way he has, like he's responsible for this whole damn town, responsible for him, responsible for the scars on his chest, responsible for all of it. 

Steve presses a hand over Billy's chest, over the scar, over his heart and sighs, saying without saying, _stay, please, stay with me where it's safe._ Billy gives a sigh of his own and Steve wishes he knew what it meant, wishes he was better at reading Billy but Billy's like a book written in a language Steve's never seen and Steve's not Robin, he's not smart enough to ever figure something like that out and then - 

And then Billy is dragging Steve's hand off his chest, away from his heart and Steve's shoulders drop in a way he's not able to fight because while Billy's indecipherable Steve's the world's biggest open book, font size a million, he can never hide anything from anybody, least of all from Billy but then - 

But then Billy is pressing a kiss to the palm of his hand and raising it to his face and leaning into the touch and Steve's not smart but he still knows what that means and the whine it tears out of him is godless, unclean and just godless, and then -

And then he's kissing Billy, his thighs squeezing tight around Billy's hips, his legs dangling off the back of the chair they're in and banging up against the wall behind it and Steve's not going to let Billy go, _he's not going to let him,_ he's going to bracket him with his body and they'll kiss like this forever, safe in Billy's trailer until the world falls apart and shatters, the angels arriving with their weapons to cleave them from each other and - 

And Steve will hold on to Billy until then, until the actual end of the world, the actual apocalypse, except - 

Except the apocalypse, the fifth one Steve's seen now, is here. There's a monster in the woods, a big, giant lumbering thing and Steve's hands in Billy's hair aren't enough to stop him from getting up and leaving. 

"I have to go," Billy says, voice thick with Steve doesn't want to think what. "I have to."

"No," Steve says just before the door slams shut. He's on his feet and grabbing his sneakers in an instant, no thinking it through needed. "I'm coming. No more of this doing shit alone nonsense anymore. We're together so we're doing this together," he says, determined. He's holding on one way or another, whether that's keeping Billy here or going out there with him. 

Billy turns to him, face split wide with the biggest grin Steve thinks he's ever seen but he still tries to play it cool. "Sure," he says. "Your funeral." He throws Steve the metal bat by the door and Steve catches it easily then slams the door behind him, shoves his feet into his sneakers and follows after Billy.

 _There won't be any funerals,_ Steve thinks. _I'll make sure of it._ He looks at Billy as he slides into the driver's seat of his beloved Camaro, the one he's spent months bringing back to life, and he bites back a snarl. _I'm not watching them bury you again. Not now. Not ever again._

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a comment if you liked this fic! 
> 
> Also, I have a [tumblr](https://gideongrace.tumblr.com/), if you wanna come yell at me over there about ace stuff or harringrove.


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